the summer after finishing university in New York, Marinette gets invited to a camping trip with Alya and Nino and his best friend. which, honestly, is for the best. at least she has more time than the four years she's already had to figure out how to reach out to her one-time superhero partner, with whom she fell out of touch after the reveal.
only, it's Adrien Agreste waiting for them on the meeting point, beaming so hard at her that it's blatantly obvious they know each other well. in her panic, what is Marinette supposed to tell Alya and Nino to protect their identites, if not that they used to date?
(fake exes AU x there was only one tent)
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Logged into my original facebook account that I rarely look at anymore and realized my childhood best friend liked a post from 2017. I last updated that account in 2018 so that's not too crazy. No friend request. I'm guessing she didn't realize she liked it and that I've realized she looked me up. I was only facebook friends with the brother out of that sibling group and wondered if she found me through him. Nope. He's deactivated. My last name isn't on the account so I'm not even sure how she found me. She doesn't have the email tied to it. I'm guessing they all probably looked me up before he deactivated and she remembered the name.
We lived across the street from each other in Miami. I met her when I was 10. She is 3 years younger than me and has 4 siblings. The youngest (the boy) was born in 1985 or 86. I was there when the second youngest walked her first steps. We ended up being roommates for a year at UNC. Her family had moved to NC in 1990, which is what had me looking at schools in that area in general.
In 1985 ish, a male cousin from Pakistan came to live with them. He was in his 20s, weird/ awkward and would try to flirt with me. I was 11/ 12. ELEVEN OR TWELVE. This continued on until he left. He even tried to get me to come into his room so he could "show me something". He said this with the other 2 older girls around. We all pretty much jeered at him and he went away. Sometime in 1986 or 87, he moved out. I learned that he had been trying to get into the two youngest gal's rooms at night. The ex best friend told me that they would sleep with shoes to throw at him. The mom found out what was going on and he had to leave.
Fast forward to when we were all adults. I learned that it was not only the cousin, but that he and their father had been actually assaulting the two youngest girls during that time period. It wasn't just attempted abuse. They were maybe 8 (3rd oldest) and 5 (4th oldest) at the time. After that was discovered, the mom still stayed with him.
3rd oldest got heavy into drugs and alcohol because of it, but we didn't know that at the time. We all just thought she liked being an edgy emo girl or whatever we as teens called it back then. I remember we really were annoyed by her being a drunk fuck up, but didn't realize she was coping from that trauma.
I went to my ex friend's wedding in 2004. I remember being pissed that 3rd oldest drank most of the bottle of Kahlua I had gotten them, so I don't think we knew yet about the abuse now that I'm typing and trying to remember. We learned after the wedding.
When I learned ex best friend and her husband were trying for kids, I was surprised that they were going to keep her father in their lives knowing what happened. Granted, it didn't happen to her so I'm not sure if that was the reasoning. I just couldn't keep interacting with that level of toxicity after a while. There were also other things that happened that added to the distancing, but I don't think I could've continued to pretend everything was ok after learning those awful facts. I last saw them in 2004. Our last email was in 2007. I never met any of her kids or any of the other siblings' kids.
I found the 3rd oldest girl's facebook a while back and she was not friends on facebook with her dad but other siblings were. It looked she got cleaned up. The last time she visited us in GA, the girls had taken the car to get serviced at Sears and they were all freaking out because 3rd oldest left cocaine somewhere in the car.
The mom had gone back to her maiden name on facebook but she still interacts with her (ex?) husband. And they all still all get together for holidays. I saw a couple of public pictures today of everybody and was just sickened by younger daughters near their pedo / abusive grandfather. I don't get it and it's not really for me to get, I guess. Everyone has their own fucked up family drama at varying levels.
I don't really feel any kind of way about this. I've wondered about how they all are in the past but have no need to reach out to rekindle anything.
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i’m here for the grandma. prepare to hand her over. i love her and i haven’t even met her
[this is relating to the pride post]
lol welcome, new cousin! I won't hand her over but I will share her, she's a pretty great grandma
Some more grandma stories:
- she calls getting minor but ridiculous injuries "pulling a TJ" (I was ridiculously clumsy as a kid and am still fairly accident-prone) so she'll call me up and say "Do you want to hear about the TJ I just pulled?". Her latest one was trying to dump the kitchen trash into the outdoor trash can without having to take the bag out of the kitchen trash can by hoisting the kitchen trash can up onto her porch railing and "letting gravity help". She fell halfway into the outdoor trash can (she's okay! she was laughing when she called me)
- she feeds stray cats (and occasionally accidentally stray raccoons) and works with the local animal shelters to try to get the kittens acclimated to people and adopted, and she mostly names them after characters from old westerns but also treats some of them like a soap opera? She tells me about all the drama going on in the local stray cat population at least once a week
- Her best friend since like the 70s was a butch lesbian named Lottie. Lottie was best friends with both my grandparents, and they moved cross country multiple times to be neighbors. Lottie passed away before I was born but my grandma still considers her the best friend she ever had
- My grandma was part of a "hair color of the month" club and I genuinely do not know what her natural hair color was before it turned white
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okay, so writing update, i have been doing it! headway is being made on the hob/dream fic, you know, the one with all the tropes and hurt/comfort and shit
words are definitely flowing and shit is tightening up, coming together, the mess i puked into these various docs is now congealing into something pretty fucking great if i say so myself
working through older sections atm and trimming and shaping things to tell the story, now that the word vomit phase is mostly over
(i tend to make the absolutely most disgusting mess in my docs, all the ideas, before coming back later and trimming the overgrown shit into something pretty)
And speaking of pretty things, take a look at the a bit of the second draft of the Dream meeting with Calliope again scene, seeking her advice regarding how to help Hob.
@thefangirloutof-time @kydrogendragon @buckybeardreams @psychiccatpanda
No warnings for this snippet
Her presence in the Dreaming once again ached—their love had left a bruise that would likely linger until the last dreamer stepped into the sunless lands.
Fiddler’s Green seemed uniquely suited for this reunion, as a place they’d forgotten themselves, and occasionally, neglected to remember, sentient and prone to modest notions—his creation had once even lengthened the soft grass just to better conceal their bodies.
Calliope stood beneath a lone tree, an oddly placed bald cypress standing tall on a knoll amongst the wildflowers, entirely out of place in the scenery. The enormous base more a cluster of roots than simple trunk, each tendril pressing against the next before diving into the earth. Above, Spanish moss swayed from its branches in great heaping clumps, while its feathery, frond-like foliage stretched to the sun on irregular limbs.
His eyes followed her delicate fingers as they skimmed over the hills and valleys of the base that nearly dwarfed her.
And no, the symbolism hadn’t been lost on him—that of all things that could have appeared beside her here, it would be an ancient cypress that had taken root--a species that carried many meanings—most markedly, a symbol of death and the grief that followed it.
It was no secret why she stood within its graces now, as it reached for the skies of the Dreaming, weeping for them both.
The sight had an old--yet never forgotten--not even for a moment--pain lodging in his lungs, making his breath hitch, forcing his jaw to clamp tight before he cleared his throat, choosing not to face those particular memories right then.
Seeming to have heard him, Calliope turned. Some of the tension easing in his chest at seeing the light had returned to her eyes.
Then with a soft, indulgent shake of the head, she smiled. Just as stunning as always.
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So I just want readers of the Dream/Hob Arranged Marriage AU I'm writing to know that
Subsequent chapters will also be absolutely filthy (and I am having a wonderful time writing them as such)
There will probably be more "subsequent chapters" than I expected (because I am having a wonderful time writing the two of them in love/in a "fake" marriage with real feelings/did I mention very in love)
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when I was a teenager, my school had an orchestra that was the most prestigious of the music programs there. You had to get auditioned and placed, whereas the other programs were opt-in. along with that orchestra, we had uniforms. Weird, low cut but floor length black dresses for the women, and tuxes for the men.
My girlfriend when I was 16/17 was trans identified, and a fantastic musician. When I asked why she didn't join the ensemble, there was one answer: the uniforms. She wouldn't join because she'd have to wear a dress. This was before being trans was a cool in-group where everyone had to bend to your will or face repercussions.
She wasn't "out" to anyone in that school as trans, except to a handful of close friends. I don't think there were any procedures in place for that sort of thing, so it was likely just up to whether tolerant teachers would play along or not. After a lengthy discussion with the directors, it was clear: if you're a woman, you MUST wear the dress. You have to. You cannot wear a tux. My friends and I commiserated with her, crying out transphobia.
Looking back, that's not the case. It's sexism. It's that the girls had to wear uncomfortable, itchy dresses, tripping over the long skirt, but with our entire top of our chests bare. I always felt it a shame that nobody was allowed to wear the uniform they wanted, or even more ideally, the sexist dresses removed and everyone wears tuxes.
Looking back, I realize that regardless of my ex's dysphoria, the fact that anyone who was a woman being forced into the secondary, non default, non neutral uniform instead of a tux that could fit everyone was hurting all of the girls at the school. We've seen stories of the girls who aren't allowed to wear pants under their graduation gowns or women who are mandated to wear heels to work. It's deeply misogynistic to force any and every woman into these roles, especially with no allowance to wear the more comfortable option. For every GNC woman, for every woman who doesn't want to wear a dress, for every woman who finds that dress uncomfortable, or for any reason at all.
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